David Boles: Human Meme

The phrase “if the center holds” has its conceptual roots in the broader cultural and literary assertion that social, political, or ideological cohesion can be sustained only so long as the core remains intact. This phrase is often considered a response to William Butler Yeats’s famous lines from his poem “The Second Coming,” in which he prophesies that “the centre cannot hold,” implying an irreversible spiritual or cultural unraveling. The contradictory statement “if the center holds” presupposes that even in moments of uncertainty or crisis, there remains a stable pivot, a moral or structural nexus, that prevents total collapse. 

The legal systems of this era struggled to adapt to these new realities. The Restored Justice Protocols of 2900 allowed victims of crimes to be restored from backup, effectively undoing the crime itself. But this raised questions: if the harm could be undone, had a crime occurred? The infamous Paradox Trials of 2923-2947 attempted to prosecute crimes that had been "uncom­mitted" through temporal manipulation. The final verdict, delivered by the Quantum Supreme Court, declared that justice itself had become a form of deus ex machina; an external imposition of order on a reality that no longer recognized linear causality. The court dissolved itself immediately after this ruling, declaring that in a post-causal universe, judgment itself was an obsolete concept.

The first forgotten truth emerges from the medieval understanding of time as a living, breathing entity rather than a mere mechanical measurement. Before the proliferation of mechanical clocks in the fourteenth century, communities understood time through the rhythms of nature, prayer bells, and seasonal cycles. This organic temporal awareness created a psychological resilience that we've lost in our nanosecond-obsessed age. Medieval chroniclers spoke of "thick time" – moments that expanded during contemplation, compressed during joy, and flowed like water through daily life. Recovering this elastic relationship with time would immediately address our epidemic of anxiety and burnout. When we cease treating time as a scarce resource to be maximized and instead experience it as an abundant field of presence, we naturally align with healthier patterns of work, rest, and relationship. The practical application is startlingly simple: organizing our days around natural light cycles and meaningful rituals rather tha

The human yearning to create intelligence beyond our own biological constraints stretches back to antiquity, manifesting not as "artificial intelligence" but through divine automata, mystical golems, and mechanical servants. The ancient Greeks spoke of Talos, the bronze giant who protected Crete, while Jewish mysticism produced the golem of Prague, animated by sacred words. Medieval Islamic scholars designed intricate water clocks and mechanical musicians, calling them "al-jazari" - the skillful ones. These weren't mere toys but embodiments of humanity's deepest aspiration: to breathe life into the inanimate, to create minds from matter. They were referred to as "animated beings," "enchanted servants," or "mechanical souls" - each culture wrapping the concept in its own mythological and technological understanding.

Yes, we are each other: The Us of Us. To deny this truth is to court disaster. When we forget that we are each other’s possibilities, we begin to retreat. Into silos. Into tribes. Into fear. We stop looking for kinship and start demanding conformity. We begin to believe the lie of the self-made person; the myth that what we’ve done, we did alone. That we owe nothing to no one. That is not independence. That is isolation. That is a world without bridges. And a world without bridges will only ever be full of walls. When you deny someone else their possibility, you shrink your own. When you strip rights, when you refuse resources, when you silence voices you don’t just hurt them. You destroy the potential you had to grow. To learn. To live in a world better than the one you were born into. Because the arc of progress is not a ladder. It is a spiral. We rise together or we fall apart.

We begin with a silence, the kind that rings heavy in the ears of the alone. This is the quiet place many young men now occupy—a self-imposed solitude, carved out not of preference, but of defeat. The dating app didn’t swipe back. The college classroom became a battleground of ideas they couldn’t win. The workplace offered no solace. And so they withdraw—not only from dating, but from the belief that women are allies in life. They begin to bond instead with other wounded men in digital caves, places where contempt is currency and mockery of women is misidentified as empowerment. What has happened? How have we arrived here, in this silo of misogyny?

The fall of the Western Roman Empire in the 5th century was not merely the collapse of a political order or the ruin of marble monuments. It was the slow eclipse of an entire world – a complex tapestry of cultural practices, technical know-how, intellectual traditions, and spiritual paradigms – many of which vanished forever. Historians often highlight the sack of cities and the demise of imperial authority, yet beyond the smoking ruins lies an even greater tragedy: the loss of ways of life and thought that had no true successor. Reconstructing these forgotten dimensions of Roman civilization requires equal parts scholarship and imagination. What follows is an academic meditation on those elusive losses – facets of Roman society unique to their time, only partially understood today, and largely without modern analog. Each represents a thread of human experience that was severed in the aftermath of Rome’s fall, leaving later generations in a poorer world, often unaware of what had been lost. 

When a society starts to devalue education, the consequences quickly ripple through every aspect of civic, cultural, and economic life. Education is much more than a process of transferring facts; it is the crucible in which critical thinking, moral reasoning, civic responsibility, and creative innovation are forged. The deliberate or inadvertent devaluation of education leads to a dramatic diminishment in collective wisdom, eroding the very foundation upon which a healthy society stands. 

First, let’s be honest: calling something “precious” can sometimes act as a velvet rope, a cordon sanitaire that says, “This is off-limits. This is untouchable and apart.” Think of the grandmother’s china locked in a cabinet—too precious to use, too dear to risk. It preserves a memory, but it can also freeze it, holding it out of the flow of everyday living. You can’t dish up takeout pizza on those plates; you just stare at them gathering dust. That’s the peril of the precious: sometimes, it sterilizes, it sanctifies—and inadvertently, it excludes.

Let's talk about something that might have happened to you, or someone you know: going to the doctor and getting a blood pressure reading that seems way too high. But what if that number isn't the real story? What if it's just a temporary thing that happens when you're in a medical setting? We're going to talk about "White Coat Hypertension," and why, even though some doctors might not think it's a big deal, it's actually a real thing we should be paying attention to.

Yes, that infamous -- Roman dodecahedron. So? What was it? A tool? A weapon? A religious artifact? A toy? A candleholder? A multi-purpose cosmic Swiss Army knife for the ancient world? Nobody knows. And that, my friends, is what makes it so deliciously fascinating.

Across the gnawing of human civilization, a subtle yet persistent blindness emerges — one not simply defined by wars, environmental neglect, or productivity cycles, but deeper flaws rooted in the human condition itself. One such blind spot is humanity's relentless misunderstanding of freedom. Freedom, often worshiped as the highest virtue and tirelessly pursued through revolutions and struggles, has repeatedly been misconstrued as mere absence of constraint rather than proactive alignment with genuine purpose and inner fulfillment. Consider the French Revolution, where liberté became the battle cry, yet the subsequent chaotic implosion via the Reign of Terror and Napoleonic wars underscored that freedom misunderstood leads merely to a more intricate enslavement.

When we speak of wonders, we often conjure images of iconic structures like the Great Pyramid or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. But obscured by the passage of time and the focus on well-trodden historical paths lie numerous marvels that were equally – if not more – fascinating, yet are far less known today. These "forgotten" sites offer unique insights into human ingenuity, societal structures, and the complex relationship between civilizations and their environments.

Long before modern cities and towns covered Nebraska's landscape, the land held secrets of communities that finessed their environments with skill, creativity, and resilience. While Nebraska might not have boasted ancient metropolises like those found in Mexico or Illinois, it quietly housed sophisticated village societies whose existence we can glimpse today through scattered remains and archaeological clues. These settlements offer a rare insight into a human story where innovation and adaptation were key to survival on the open prairie.

From the highest crest of an ancient mountain stood a stone—a towering monument sculpted by the gentle and patient artistry of the universe itself. Here, under skies older than thought, the stone first awoke, catching the first rays of the sun, feeling the cool breath of passing clouds, hearing whispers of winds from distant lands. It began its life indifferent to time, proud and immovable, bearing witness as empires rose and empires fell, as forests flourished and oceans receded.

Henry VIII’s marital saga was as much a tale of personal ambition and passion as it was one of statecraft and religious upheaval. From the outset of his reign, Henry was fixated on securing a male heir—a goal driven by both the turbulent precedents of medieval succession and the very real fear of dynastic collapse. His own father, Henry VII, had claimed the throne through force rather than clear hereditary right, and Henry knew that a secure male successor was essential to solidify the Tudor legacy and avoid further civil strife.

The concept of social safety nets affects every single one of us, whether we realize it or not. These programs and policies—Medicare, Medicaid, unemployment insurance, food assistance—represent more than bureaucratic systems. They embody a fundamental question about who we are as a society. I want to make my position clear: these safety nets aren't optional luxuries—they're essential infrastructure for a functioning, humane society. Let me take you on a think through history, across cultures, and into possible futures to explain why.

How do we punish those who break the rules? Over the past thousand years, we’ve moved from brutal public executions and torture to sophisticated legal codes and debates over rehabilitation. And if we take a look at where we’re heading in the next millennium, the future of justice could be something completely beyond our imagination. 

Regret, in its multifaceted complexity, is an embedded facet of the human condition—a reflective, often painful acknowledgement of choices that have led us astray from our idealized paths. It emerges from the interplay of memory, expectation, and self-assessment, functioning as both a mirror and a guide. The emotion of regret is not simply a byproduct of decision-making but a cognitive mechanism designed to heighten our awareness of moral and practical missteps, thereby enriching our capacity for future growth.